


The Vengeance Vow

by angelsandbrowncoats



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2017 [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Murder Husbands, Nygmobblepot Week 2017, and murder, i guess, i was behind so no there isn't any graphic violence in this one, just implied future violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 10:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: An inconsequential crime lord wants Oswald's help moving up the ladder. How to convince the Penguin to help? Find out what he wants and offer it to him. And everyone knows that what the Penguin wants most is the Riddler on a golden platter.





	The Vengeance Vow

**Author's Note:**

> Eyy, so I literally wrote this today. I'm behind. So yeah, blame any mistakes on the fact that I rushed through this a _ton_. I hope you guys like it anyway!

"You have yet to offer me anything even remotely tempting," Oswald drawled, "You have thirty seconds to convince me stay, much less to consider your proposal."

The wannabe crime lord laughed, far less nervously than Oswald thought proper, and wiped his sweaty palms on his suit pants before gesturing to a door that Oswald supposed was what passed for 'concealed' these days.

"Right this way, Sir," the man said, an oily confidence oozing from his throat, "I _guarantee_ this will sweeten the pot. I know you've underestimated me, but I'm more in the loop than you think. Everyone wants something: money, power, fame... or revenge."

Oswald paused at his words. He recalled saying something similar moments before killing that man, what's his name, Carbonne. 'Frankie'. He almost died over that murder.

The man unlocked the door and opened it inwards, striding forward with near arrogance.

"And _this_ is where we've been keeping the honored guest. Do you like him?"

Oswald raised a curious eyebrow and carefully stepped into the room. His preoccupation with potential traps vanished as he caught sight of the room's occupant.

"E - _Riddler?_ "

Edward was right there, trussed up in a broken metal folding chair, gagged and blindfolded with a tray of what could only be described as torture devices balanced beside him. Oswald swallowed down the first wave of rage. It wouldn't do to blow their cover now - they'd been successfully hiding their relationship behind animosity for years. So instead of listening to his instincts and gutting the witless slug at his side or tearing the restraints from his husband, he took a deep breath and asked, "What is he here for?"

The bag of rotting foliage chuckled and pointed to the tray, "For you, of course. I know your history, Penguin. I know how he spurned you, and how he torments you even now. Help me, and I'll give him to you, no questions asked. He'll be yours to do whatever you want with, getting whatever sort of revenge you like," he approached Edward and removed the blindfold and gag, "Why don't we do a demo, whet your appetite? Anything to convince you to join me," his grin was too wide, but it didn't hold Edward's disturbing charm.

As soon as Edward laid eyes on him, he began to struggle. Oswald's heart clenched in hurt even as he silently applauded Edward's acting skills.

"No! Not Penguin! He's going to - going to - "

Oswald snarled and laughed at him, dragging himself over to the tray of tools.

"Oh you've convinced me not to leave, alright. I think this is going to be more than worth my while," he locked eyes with Edward, trying his damndest to make 'bedroom eyes' at him both to convey his intentions and to try and embarrass him. It appeared to work on both accounts as the corners of Ed's eyes crinkled with anticipatory excitement even as he blushed and bit his lip.

"So? Do we have a deal?"

"You promised me a demo," Oswald answered, unconcerned, "Let me have my demo."

"Of course," the man laughed robustly, "Take your time."

Oswald selected the sharpest knife he could and ghosted it over Edward's cheekbones, his jaw, his throat - careful to never put even an ounce of pressure on it. He continued in this pattern until her reached the bonds. One by one, he cut them apart, making sure that they still appeared mostly intact. He leaned over Edward, hissing threats until he got close enough so that only Ed could hear and whispered, "It's been too long, darling. I think we deserve to have a little fun. He needs my money for... whatever his moronic little plans are. Do you remember the court?"

The corner of Edward's lip twitched upwards and Oswald knew he understood. Now to get the knife in Edward's hands without looking suspicious...

Well there was an easy solution, right there in the problem itself.

Oswald leaned fractionally closer until his lips brushed Edward's ear and breathed, "On my cue: scream."

He didn't give Edward the chance to question what his cue would be, just raised the knife high above his shoulder and slammed it down between two of his fingers, sinking it into the wood and blocking the intentional miss with his body. As instructed, Ed let out a blood-curdling scream. Even knowing it was fake, Oswald still had to remind himself to breathe, to be calm. Ed wasn't really in pain. It was just an act.

The contractor, whose name Oswald could not remember for the life of him, cackled. Oswald forced himself to do the same, turning to face him to give Ed the opportunity he needed. Buying Edward time to extract the knife, he said, "So, about that deal..?"

The man's eyes lit up, smirking as he replied, "I knew I had you figured out. You're a great man - that is indisputable - but everyone wants something so badly he'll do anything for it."

"Especially," Ed interrupted, lunging out of the chair and grabbing ahold of Oswald, pressing the knife against his throat, "when what he wants doesn't want him back."

Oswald rolled his eyes internally while he arranged his face into panic and rage, "You didn't restrain him in multiple ways?"

"What?" the man's gaze flickered between the two villains, "But... how?"

"He's obsessed with Houdini. He practices escapism. How did you not know that? Everyone knows that!"

"Please, Oswald. As if you've never underestimated me," Ed practically purred, free hand stroking up and down his arm.

"You're certainly one to talk about underestimation. I can't recall a fight between us that didn't end with my having the upper hand."

The little cockroach who'd brought them here was edging his way over towards his gun, foolishly left on a table across the room. Oswald almost wanted to keep up the banter and give him a fighting chance, but there was a reason they only ever waited until their prey had developed _hope_ of winning. It made it so much more fun, watching that hope die before the victim, and all without ever having to risk each other's safety.

"Well I certainly won't be losing this one," Ed shot back. Oswald grinned. The opportune moment.

"And I have no intention of ending my perfect score. Perhaps there's some way we can both win?"

"Are you proposing we... work together?"

The man had frozen now, eyes bulging in disbelief at them. He interrupted, "Absolutely not! Penguin is working with me! Why would he ever work with you? You're just some freak with a thing for puzzles. All of Gotham knows it!"

Oswald reached up to grab Edward's wrist just in time to stop him from accidentally pressing down on the blade. He pried the weapon from Ed's rigid fingers, brushing his own gently across them.

"Edward, darling, would you permit me the honor of taking care of this mess for you?"

Ed's eyes snapped down to his, then the knife. He caressed Oswald's arm again and responded, "No."

Oswald's eyes widened in surprise, but he understood wanting to make the kill for oneself -

"Together. We kill him together."

"Of course, my love," Oswald smiled up at him, reaching with his free hand to trace the same cheekbones he'd teased with the knife earlier, " _That_ truly has been too long."

The man, still gaping in disbelief, reached for his gun. Edward was between him and the table before he could blink, grinning maniacally as he picked up the firearm. Oswald grabbed the man's collar and dragged him bodily to the chair he'd strapped Ed to.

"Edward, dear, put the gun down. You know you're better with precision work and with the way you like to wave those things around, I'm always afraid you're going to shoot yourself in the foot."

"I wouldn't - "

"Just put it down. Look at all these lovely toys our host provided," he gestured at the tray, "Be courteous to him and use one of those."

"Fine," Ed mumbled, discarding the gun and going over to inspect the array of surgical tools, weapons, and something Ed was almost positive had been stolen from the torture museum.

"And for your information," he addressed the maggot cowering in the chair, "I've proposed a hell of a lot more than just working together to Edward here."

Ed looked up from the tray and gave a pretty smile, coy, almost innocent, save for the deranged glint in his eyes, "I said yes."

"You mean - you two - " the man gasped, glancing between them.

Ed joined Oswald in front of the chair and Oswald pulled him down, cupping his jaw as he kissed him, putting on a show with enough flair to please even his husband. When he pulled back he turned to the man, "Do this? Got married? Yes, we did."

"And nobody knows," Edward practically cooed.

"I know," the man sat up, talking as quickly as he could, "Let me go, and I won't tell anyone."

The happy couple laughed in unison.

"What a lovely promise," Oswald sighed, "but the buccaneers had a better one. What was it, Ed?"

"Dead men tell no tales."

"That's the one," he agreed, stepping forward, "You know, you should have just stuck to boring me."

"Please, you don't have to - "

"Oh, no, friend. I'm afraid I most certainly _do_ have to. You signed your death warrant the moment you laid hands on my husband, and I simply _can't_ renege on my vows. I'm sure there was something in there about gutting anyone who threatens him... "

"'I vow to eliminate all negative influences on your life in whatever manner most suitable, provided I have first obtained your explicit consent to do so'," Ed quoted, "And you may rest assured you have mine."

Oswald smiled at him, "You remember the exact wording?"

"Of course I do," Ed scoffed.

"I love your mind, my love."

"Maybe you'll love it even more after you hear what I have in store for this scumbag," Ed smirked. Oswald reached over, taking Edward's hand in his own and lacing their fingers together, "I don't think it's possible to love you more than I already do, but you're welcome to give it your best shot. I'm more than amenable, and," he glanced arbitrarily at his watch, "I don't have anywhere else to be," he gave a smirk of his own, "If you impress me enough, maybe I'll invite you to come home with me..."

Ed squeezed his hand gently and replied, "I'll try my best to be granted that honor."

They turned to the unfortunate petty crime lord, wearing matching grins, radiating sadism as they advanced. Echoing screams set the mood for the rest of their night, and Oswald knew that no matter how much Ivy teased them about being an old married couple, he wouldn't trade this life for anything else - not youth, not health, nothing. As long as he had Edward and a pair of pocketknives, he'd be happy. They'd tied the knot around some necks, alright, but definitely not their own.


End file.
